


Emergency Simulation

by Tarlan



Series: Emergency Colors [4]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Character Study, Community: fanfic100, Implied Relationships, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-21
Updated: 2007-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:10:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney fumed as the light in his small room began to flash orange and a muffled siren sounded in the corridor beyond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emergency Simulation

**Author's Note:**

> Fanfic100 prompt 012. Orange

Rodney fumed as the light in his small room began to flash orange and a muffled siren sounded in the corridor beyond.

"I don't believe this!"

Every now and then, someone thought it a great idea to test out the emergency system in the Ancient outpost. This anonymous person never seemed to consider the possibility that he might be in the middle of important work, or worse, that he might actually be sleeping. He muttered under his breath as he stumbled out of a bed that had barely been slept in, scrubbing a hand through hair that had insisted on taking on a life of its own during the short time while he slept.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he cursed as his bare feet hit the freezing cold floor, and he dashed across the room to grab the clothes that he had discarded only an hour before. He understood why the anthropologists wanted to keep the place cold, hoping to preserve the Ancient architecture, though Rodney was convinced the outpost was a lot more robust that they insisted. What he could not understand was why no one had thought to put down a rug or two to save everyone's toes from frostbite.

Admittedly, he normally went to bed wrapped in layers that included thick socks but Jackson had borrowed his spare pair and the rest were still awaiting the attention of the guy who was supposed to wash and dry all their clothing. Quickly, he rummaged through a drawer, cursing afresh when the hope-for socks failed to appear out of thin air. Rodney made a mental note to castigate someone over this. In the meantime, he hunted around in his dirty laundry pile for the slightly damp and sweaty socks that he had discarded earlier, grimacing as he pulled them onto his cold feet. He tugged his orange fleece over his head as he rushed into the ornate corridor, heading for the elevator that would take him up to the surface. Orange warning lights flashed along the corridor, making everything look surreal and he faltered as he reached the cryogenic unit housing the frozen form of Jack O'Neill, unable to simply walk by without quickly inspecting it for any problems. They had already come close to losing O'Neill only a week earlier. McKay had stepped up vigilance on the unit ever since, not wanting to see the fear in Daniel's eyes again as he contemplated losing a man that Rodney suspected was more than just a good friend. Most people believed him so emotionally and socially stunted that he wouldn't be able to recognize his own mother's love but he had seen Daniel's fear turn to relief and love once Rodney had stabilized the malfunctioning unit.

A quick glance at the control panel told him he had no immediate worries and, as always, Rodney could not resist a quick look at the entombed man but nothing had changed there either. O'Neill still had the same almost sad expression, as if he had known he might never see his loved ones again in their lifetime for no one on Earth had the ability to save O'Neill, and the Asgard had their own problems to deal with these days.

Knowing he had lingered far longer than he ought, Rodney carried on at a brisk pace towards the elevator and found Daniel waiting there for him. A smile twitched at the man's lips as he held out the heavy duty snow gear.

"You must be kidding?!" Rodney stared at the snowsuit knowing the rest of the ensemble would be waiting for him at the surface.

"Sorry, Rodney. A particularly nasty storm hit about ten minutes ago. It was too late to cancel the emergency simulation so they're going to treat this like the real thing."

Rodney looked down at his feet knowing that he was not only about to freeze his ass off but that he would be getting snow melting inside his boots too. Of course, if he had pulled on the proper protective footwear before venturing out of his room then that might not have happened but time had been a critical factor. In this case, a complete lack of it.

"This is so unfair!" He grabbed the suit and hurried into the elevator, knowing he had only the time it took to reach the surface to pull on the snowsuit over his less than adequate clothing. The countdown started as the elevator rose swiftly towards the surface, counting off the number of feet left to the surface, but Rodney paid no attention as all his energy was focused on getting into the bulky clothing. Of course he looked like a huge orange balloon man by the time he sealed the front, wondering why the military insisted on keeping the more flattering white camouflage to themselves.

When the elevator opened at the top, Rodney was certain the lieutenant started sniggering at him but then, Mr. Macho Marine was geared out in military snow gear.

"Least we can't lose you out there, Doc," the lieutenant stated, slapping him on the back before handing him a pair of snow goggles. He waited until Rodney was ready and then opened the outside door. Rodney swore heartily under his breath as the freezing wind and snow turned his blood to ice. A shove from behind had him outside within seconds, the door slamming closed behind him.

"Cou...utes, Doc. No more."

"What?" Rodney could not make out what the man was saying beneath the layers of protection, the wind whipping away any words that escaped.

"TWO minutes... the most!" The lieutenant held up a hand but it was impossible to see how many fingers he was holding up.

Storms at this time of year were unpredictable, coming up suddenly, and this one had caught the McMurdo helicopter less than ten minutes out from the Outpost, leaving the pilot no recourse but to press on rather than brave the storm back to McMurdo. When the helicopter loomed out of the darkness of the storm suddenly, almost clipping the top of the dome, the young dark-skinned lieutenant - Forge? Forbs? - tried to push him back inside against the wall of the complex, covering him with his bulked out body. Rodney could see over the lieutenant's shoulder and even he was impressed by the pilot's skill as he managed to control the descent even against the violent buffering of the wind and settle the craft in the relative shelter of the dome.

Snow lashed against the cockpit, obscuring the pilot from view though Rodney thought he could make out a flash of dark, messy hair as the pilot discarded his helmet before the human-shaped figure dragged on a military issue snow jacket. When he stepped out of the helicopter, he had the hood pulled over his face with goggles hiding the rest.

"Doc...Kay?"

"Yes! Who else would be stupid enough to stand out here freezing to death in the middle of a violent snow storm just to satisfy the paranoia of the military?"

"What?"

"Never mind!" Rodney shook his head and held out his hand instead, taking the precious package that the sole reason for him freezing his ass off. Without even offering any thanks, Rodney turned and aimed for the inside of the dome, knowing he still had several procedures to follow in this pathetic emergency simulation before he could crawl back into his mostly warm bed.

An hour later, Rodney dragged off his fleece and pants before tumbling into his bed still clad in his day-old t-shirt, boxers and sweaty socks, falling quickly into sleep.

That night he dreamed of a faceless, messy-haired pilot, battling through snow and storm to rescue him from the clutches of a mad scientist in a castle of ice. If that scientist happened to look like Kavanagh then that was just Rodney's subconscious sending him a warning that he would later ignore.

THE END


End file.
